XXV

Unsure Footing

The hand gripped the rail and he descended. The metal steps creaked underfoot. There must have been walls, some semblance of structure, but all was black before his eyes. Something gurgled. Something was bubbling up. There was the sound of movement and it was there in the dark. The steps ended and the feet touched a spongy moss in the tiny room. There were windows covered in greasy film that let in a sickly yellow light, like a diseased flame. The walls were made of wooden slats and bare, except for a picture frame that hung at an odd angle. The picture showed a man hanging from a tree.

In the sickly light, he could see he was standing in a graveyard, indoors and underground. The stones weren't in neat rows or had any organization to them at all. Some were tipped, others were cracked, but each of them had the name worn away. He padded with slow and silent footsteps through the graveyard until he found one stone unlike the rest. Fleshy pink tendrils wrapped around it like fingers and before it, the grave was dug up and empty. On the stone, the name was clearly etched and read:

Luigi.

A thorny vine wrapped around his ankle and sunk in his flesh, hooking him like a fish. It dragged him from his feet into the open grave and down. He descended past engines and horns, the great scaffolding of all things, until they faded away and a tiny patch of stone was below him or above him. He couldn't tell one way or the other. The smell of rot hit him in a wave of steam and he retched. Finally, he came to a stop and realized he was upside down. Before him, a great maw of razor teeth opened and he saw rent flesh on the canine in the shape of a handprint. Petey, the Piranha Maw, roared and shook the walls of the cavern beneath the worlds.

Luigi lay on a cot in the brig. The muscles in his jaw clenched and his brow twitched. He hadn't slept in days, not since he was put under for the surgery. Lady Bow watched his fits from her cell. She had eaten the pear and crackers but hadn't the stomach for the sandwich. Instead, she resorted to picking apart the bread and throwing crumbs across the room. She counted how many times she hit his mustache. So far, she had hit four. Without warning, he jolted up wide awake and screamed.

She snorted a laugh at his visage of pure terror. "Look who's finally up," she said, picking up a cup and clanking it back and forth on the bars.

"How long have I been out?" He massaged the ache in his jaw. Clenching his teeth had given him a splitting headache.

"Who's to say?" Her eyes were wide with mischief.

"Does that mean you won't?"

"Clever boy. I see why she likes you."

"You're a boo. Couldn't you just walk out of those bars?"

"Of course I could, clever boy. But then where would I go?" She pushed herself against the bars with one resting between her small breasts. "I could join you on that cot."

"A lot of good that would do you. Being a ghost and all."

"Don't be stupid," she snapped. "We boos feel everything. That shot through my thigh was like lightning. The pain was exquisite." Her tone softened and she dragged her bottom lip up the shaft of the bar. "Would you like a taste?"

"Not a chance." The throbbing in his head dimmed his vision and made him dizzy.

"No one has to know," she persisted. He glared at her and held her gaze. After a long moment, she relented and backed away from the bars and took a seat on her cot. "Pity. You did so well before. I think you would make a perfect pet for the Koopa king. How about it, clever boy? Join us or die, as they say." He said nothing but his nerves caught up to him. His gaze faltered and a silent fart escaped from him. His face turned a beet red. "Suit yourself," she said at last. "But someday you will lend us a helping hand." She regarded his robotic arm, threw her head back and cackled, light glinting off her pearly fangs. He pushed himself from the cot and ran from the room as her cackling chased after him.

With his head down, he nearly ran her over but stopped short at the sight of her feet. He looked up to see his fiance, wearing a puzzled expression. "Luigi!" she said. "You're finally awake. Are you okay?" She put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. Her touch felt like solid ground.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he said but it was clear to her that something had shaken him. He took her hands from him and pushed past her. She watched him scamper off down the corridor and out of sight. Her brow knitted and she squeezed her hands together. We're supposed to tell each other everything, she thought. Even when it's tough. Especially when it's tough. She wiped her tears on her sleeve.

Outside, the Great Fox approached the mass relay. It entered the orbital dock and automatically, the great gyroscope whirled around it. The same blue energy field grew until it shot out of the runway, creating the massless zone. Inside, it felt as though their bodies had become vapor, as if they were all ghosts. Each of them felt it in their own way but, in silence, they shared the ill feeling that their mission was doomed. The feeling was as intangible and untethered as their bodies in the mass-free field. It was all color and dread but if they could put it into words, they might have asked themselves why it was so easy for them to capture Lady Bow, not just a First-Class Spectre, but, perhaps, the greatest field agent in the history of the Galactic Federation.

"Watch your footing, crew," said Slippy through the intercom. "We're about to make the first jump."